Intrigued by the Pedersen

While most of the time my reactions to bicycles are love or hate at first sight, my interest in the Pedersen developed slowly. I do not even remember the first time I saw one: It could have been 8 years ago in England, or 15 years ago in a book. It's sort of always been there, in a distant corner of my awareness - a lovely absurdity that I categorised somewhere in the realm of antique bicycle designs that have no place in practical, everyday cycling.

That began to change, as I watched Wolfgang casually pull up on a Pedersen on one of the days we met up last summer in Vienna. I knew that he had one in his collection. I just didn't know that he actively rode it, or even that it could be ridden in the same manner as a regular bicycle - in traffic, at commuting speed. Turns out I knew nothing at all about these machines. Still produced in Europe and even imported in the US, the Pedersen is a Danish design that, its proponents boast, is the most comfortable bicycle in existence. A bold claim, but they seem to mean it!

The multiple-stay frame construction provides suspension. The hammock saddle, even more so. The result is an upright, cushy ride, that Pedersen enthusiasts describe as downright regal in comparison to standard bicycles. Wolfgang's bike was too tall for me to ride, so I cannot say whether I agree. But I find myself wondering more and more and would very much like to try one.

Though I do not remember the first time I saw a Pedersen, I do remember the last time: a couple of weeks ago in the garage of the office building where the Co-Habitant works. Yes, someone who works in his building commutes on a Pedersen and leaves it locked up with all the other bikes. I suppose they are all used to seeing it there by now and no longer process it as anything out of the ordinary, but I was terribly excited to discover it. And it seemed to be in my size. Perhaps I should leave a note...

If you are curious to know more about Pedersen bicyles, there is a history page here, and a great article in Bicycling Magazine by Florence Williams about hunting for one in Copenhagen. Feedback from owners is, of course, most welcome: Are they feasible as commuter bikes? How on Earth do you mount and dismount them?

Retrovelo Paula in the Countryside (with Her Vintage Friend)

I have written about Anna's Retrovelo Paula before, but I was not able to evaluate the ride after what was only a couple of minutes on a cold November day. This time around it was summer, and Anna and I went on a nice long trip along the Danube - she on her Retrovelo Paula and me on the Steyr Waffenrad (the bike I ride while in Vienna). Our ride was 30-miles round trip, and for a stretch of it we swapped bikes.

Here is Anna on her beautiful bike.

I must pause and mention here that she was wearing a stunning outfit taylor-made for her in India: slate blue kaftan, white trousers and white cape. It looked elegant and kept her cool on what turned out to be a very hot day.

But back to the bikes: neither the Retrovelo nor the vintage bike I was riding had a problem with the magnitude of the ride, which did include occasional (but mild) hills.

We rolled out of Vienna and passed through the beautiful countryside of Klosterneuburg, Krietzendorf, eventually stopping at a scenic spot in Greifenstein.

Here is me with the Retrovelo Paula during our trip. This dog decided to join us for a bit - no doubt because he liked the bike!

Anna's feet and sandals. My main impression of the Retrovelo Paula is that it is a comfortable ride with a feel of gliding to it. The bicycle is clearly well-made and of high quality. It rode very differently from the vintage Austrian bike I was on, but similarly to my Pashley back home (after the latest round of modifications I made to the Pashley). Prior to its latest modifications, I would say my Pashley was more sluggish than the Retrovelo Paula, but post-modifications they are about the same. One interesting point, is that I did not feel a huge difference in "cushiness" between the Delta Cruiser tires that I had been riding on my vintage bike, and the Fat Frank tires on the Retrovelo; to my surprise the ride quality was similar.

Overall I liked the Retrovelo Paula, and found its ride quality to be in the same general category as that of Pashley and Velorbis.  I think that between the three of these, preferences really depend on individual tastes more than anything else. I know of one former Pashley owner who tried the Retrovelo, liked it better, and has now gotten one (and is selling her Pashley). However, I do not feel the same, and wonder how much of the difference she felt is component and setup-related. The Retrovelo is a very pared-down bike in comparison to the Pashley, and I think the choices of tires and gearing further contribute to the sportier feel of the ride if we compare their "out of the box" set-ups - but all of that can be changed, and I feel that the basic ride quality is similar.

In terms of manufacturing quality, I would rate Retrovelo as being on par with Pashley and better than Velorbis. Aesthetically, I think the Retrovelo has hands-down the best fork-crown design and lugwork of the three, but it has a few practical drawbacks - such as a lack of chaincase and dressguard. As for weight, the Retrovelo Anna was riding felt to me as if it weighed exactly the same as my Pashley at home; it is not a light bicycle by any means. 

Other random notes... The Retrovelo has handlebars that to me feel unusually wide, a bit like cruiser bars. Some may like this, others may not. The braking system is hand-activated hub brakes. If you are a coaster brake fan keep that in mind, but I know that some dislike coaster brakes and will see this as great news. The bicycle is equipped with dynamo lighting, front and rear.

The bottom line is: the Retrovelo is an excellent modern bicycle built in the classic tradition. It is fairly fast and maneuverable, comfortable, gorgeous, and its owners love it. If it is within your budget, I doubt that you will regret choosing this bike.

But... I have yet to find a modern bike with a ride quality I like better than my vintage Raleigh DL-1 or the vintage Steyr Waffenrad I ride in Austria. I honestly wish that wasn't so, as I'd feel more comfortable riding a reliable modern bicycle than a vintage one. But it is as if the modern designs did something to the geometry of the bikes that has made them less efficient than their vintage equivalents. Maybe someday I will figure it out.

Adjusting to the Velo Timezone

This is the first time when my stay in Austria involved cycling from beginning to end - without relying on public transport for any reason. And a curious thing has been happening: everywhere I go, I am always early!

I am a moderately punctual person, but definitely not someone who is obsessed with arriving "on the dot," let alone ahead of time. So why was this suddenly happening? Then it hit me: After living in Vienna on and off for 3 years now, I've developed an internal "estimator" of how long it will take me to get to any given location in the city - based on my experiences with the U-Bahn (subway) and trolley systems here. Even though I cycle now, my internal time estimator has not adjusted yet and still functions based on "public transport time" - making me always early, because it is actually faster to travel in Vienna by bicycle! To me this revelation was a "wow" moment because Vienna is such a large city. Sure, traveling by bicycle is more pleasant, but it never occurred to me that it is also faster. I can honestly say that my days here have been made less hectic by the time I've saved on commuting. I like being in the velo time zone!

Cycling in a Heatwave... Making Friends with Florals

There are many websites out there with excellent advice on cycling in hot weather. Suggestions include cycling slowly, wearing breathable fabrics, drinking plenty of water, applying sunscreen, and using baby wipes - all of which I do. And there tends to be a consensus that once the heat and humidity get past a certain point (yesterday's 100F weather would probably qualify!), there is just nothing that can be done other than bringing a change of clothes to work, particularly if one works in an environment with a dress code.

While this is good advice for some, changing upon arrival is not an option in my line of work. I have meetings in different parts of the city in the course of the workday, and there is no reasonable opportunity to change upon arrival prior to joining the meetings. Plus, I am on a tight schedule and changing a half a dozen times a day would be ludicrous.

So, what to do? Well, the Boston Globe and Bike Snob have already quoted me on this, but I've never actually written it in a Lovely Bicycle post: I wear fabrics with prints, which helps to disguise the one part of commuting in the heat we cannot control - sweat! "Eww gross!" - I know. But a reality none the less!

The best sort of prints for this purpose are small and detailed with some tonal variation - such as florals. This tricks the eye into not noticing additional tonal variations that happen from sweat stains. Stripes, polka dots, and other busy prints can work as well - but micro-florals and paisleys are particularly effective, because the patterns they form are organic. It may seem too simple of a solution, but this really is an amazing technique at making a sweat-soaked blouse, skirt, or dress look no different from a dry one.

I wore this dress to a meeting after cycling in it for 30 minutes in intense heat and humidity. Can you tell it's wet and disgusting? My colleagues could not, and complimented me on staying so cool in the heat. Yeah, right! Well, at least I can fake it with florals.

Take Me to the River!

Just about the only thing saving my sanity during the awful heatwave we are having in Vienna, is the splendid and beautiful Danube. The Danube River and the Danube Canal run through the length of the city, and the bicycle paths along them are extremely useful for travel from one neighborhood to another. The streets of Vienna may be choking with exhaust fumes and the asphalt may be melting from the heat, but the cycle paths by the river are leafy and breezy. And they can take you from the center of town to the serene countryside in as little as 30 minutes!

A couple of days ago, Anna (from Cycling is Good for You) and I escaped Vienna for a trip to the country, swapping bicycles while we were at it. But I will have to postpone writing about that, because I am off to a conference in Romania (which, incidentally, is accessible via the very Danube bicycle path that runs through Vienna). I enjoy knowing that I can get on the river path around the corner from my house, and just keep going for days until I reach either the Black Forest in Germany, or the Black Sea in Romania. And this is the same bike path on which I commute to work! Magical.

Do We Care If They See Our Underwear?

[image via velo-mama]

Ah, the topic of underpant visibility whilst cycling in a skirt! It is truly one of which we lady cyclists never seem to tire. Some enthusiastically discuss methods of tying down the skirt so as to curb its treacherous revelations. Others advocate wearing leggings. But as I cycled to various meetings in different parts of Vienna today in insane mid-day heat, I suddenly simply did not care. And neither, I noticed, did any of the Viennese ladies on bicycles around me. And, more importantly still, neither did the men.

[image via eva-lu]

Noticing this made me think about why it is that we tend to be so concerned about whether our underpants are showing as we cycle. Is it a personal sense of modesty? Or is it because of how men look at us? For me, I have to say it is the latter. In the US, if I am not wearing leggings under a skirt while cycling, it is almost inevitable that a man will shout something at me or meaningfully look at me in a way that I find unpleasant. That is why I wear leggings, and not because I am inherently ashamed to show my underwear. Despite the theoretical progress in gender relations, I think it is unsafe to evoke a curiosity about my anatomy in strange men.

By comparison, in Vienna the men don't seem too interested in examining women cycling in skirts. Perhaps it is a deep-rooted cultural difference when it comes to gender relations, or perhaps it has something to do with the fact that there is a nudist beach just down the river. Whatever the reason, it is a welcome relief. If they don't care, then honestly - I don't either. If only that sense of liberation were enough to deal with this horrible heatwave!

In Da House

So, apparently even in Vienna I am incapable of riding just one bike. Now I have Jacqueline the lady's Waffenrad and Kurt the trackbike living with me. Jacqueline stays in the courtyard, chained to a pipe. Kurt leads a pampered lifestyle indoors.

Here are his posh private quarters, under the loft stairs and on my housemate's nice rug. Amazingly, she does not object to her new tenant.

I have been riding Kurt every day after work since having gotten him on Monday, but today my legs demanded a break. My "adventures" so far have included getting a flat 5 miles from home and learning why tubular tires outside the track are not a great idea (you can't patch them up). With the rim and tire combination on this bike, it is actually okay to cycle on a flat slowly, and that is how I got home. But my hands were not too happy after the "vibrant" ride of shame. Later, Wolfgang switched out my entire front wheel for another one with an intact tire. I am guessing they don't make tubular tires with kevlar, eh?

Another fun thing that happened, was that the bolt came off one of my rear drop-outs and I did not notice until much later. I am guessing this happened from riding on potholes. Thankfully, the bolt on the other side of the wheel remained securely attached, but it was still scary to see. Today I bought a replacement (good Lord, Campagnolo bolts are expensive!), so all is well. From now on I will inspect the bike carefully before taking it out - which, I am realising, is something one needs to do on a bicycle like this.

I have been delighted to discover that the geometry of this bicycle activates the thigh muscles in a way that after 5 days I can already see a difference in the contours of my legs - very nice. Kurt is welcome in my house any time - I just hope he has the good manners to keep his bolts on and his tires inflated!

Slightly Off Track...

I have mentioned my wistfulness for the velodrome and my attraction to beautiful track bikes before, and, let's face it - we all thought it was pretty funny and ludicrous. But the joke has now become an unexpected reality!

My friend Wolfgang in Vienna suggested that I try a vintage trackbike he happens to own in my size. He transported it to the Velodrome on his cargo bike, and the idea was for me to try riding it on the adjacent paved lot. The Velodrome here is closed for the summer and the abandoned lot makes for a safe practice area. We figured that even if I managed to ride the bike for a couple of yards, it would sort of count as having been on the Velodrome grounds (right?).

This bicycle is pretty special and once belonged to professional Austrian racer Kurt Schneider, but that is a topic for its own post. The size and fit were just right for me, really perfect. Having ridden my Sam Hillborne for a month back home, I was already used to the diamond frame and drop bars. But of course there were the small details of the fixed gear and the lack of brakes.

Well, apparently I survived. And what I thought would be, at best, a careful circling around the Velodrome lot, turned into an ecstatic 7-mile ride on paths and back roads on the outskirts of Vienna. Here are my impressions, from the point of view of someone who has never ridden such a bicycle before:

. The bike felt completely "normal" to ride. I expected to have trouble getting used to the inability to coast, but it did not need getting used to. It was not in any way difficult or strange, just felt natural.

. In general, I feel that the idea of "not being able to coast" is misleading, in that it suggests that the fixed gear cyclist is hard at work the entire time, always pedaling. That is not so, because the time you'd spend coasting on a regular bike, you still spend relaxing your legs on a fixed gear. Effort-wise it is no more strenuous than coasting, only the pedals are rotating your legs for you. Just relax and let it happen.

. I do not yet understand the mechanics of this, but the fixed gear did make me feel far more in control than did any other bike I have ridden. I was able to go through tighter spaces and trickier corners without panicking. To be honest, I have always been somewhat apprehensive of coasting, because it makes me feel as if the bike can be reeling out of control at any moment. By contrast, the fixed gear feels safe and predictable.

. While I do not advocate riding a brakeless trackbike on the street, I found that the stopping power was not much worse than when riding a vintage roadster with rod brakes. You just need to be aware of your speed, your surroundings, and plan your stops accordingly. I went slowly, and did not have trouble stopping when I needed to.

. The stopping process is similar to a coaster brake: just pull backwards with your legs. The bike will keep going for a few revolutions, slowing down more and more with each until it comes to a stop.

. I expected a bike with "track geometry" to be uncomfortable to ride. This bicycle was extremely comfortable, but I am not sure to what extent it is bike-specific - maybe it is just extremely well built. Even the 23mm tubular tires felt fine - including off road!

. The only aspect of the bike that began to bother me after a while, were the handlebars - the track-style drop bars don't have sufficient "shoulders" for me to place my hands the way I like.

I am not sure whether my feedback is typical or not. But that was my experience, and I absolutely loved it. It was especially wonderful to actually go exploring on this bike. I still have a hard time believing I did it.

A big Thank You to Wolfgang again for this experience. (And in case you are wondering, he is riding a Benotto time trial bike.)

I think that the popularity of fixed gear culture today has given us a lot of misconceptions about what riding a track bike is actually like. It was completely different from what I had expected, it wasn't difficult, and most importantly, it was enjoyable. The trackbike now (temporarily) lives with me, and I have been practicing riding it after work on the Danube Canal bike path and in the Prater park.

Could the crazy dream of the velodrome be not so crazy after all?

All Happy Bicycles Are Alike?...

According to the Anna Karenina principle, it might be said that all happy bicycles are alike and every unhappy bicycle is unhappy in its own way.

Jacqueline - a vintage Steyr Waffenrad that has become my "Austrian bike" - is happy. She has a relationship with a human who loves her. She has an idyllic work commute along the Danube Canal.

She has beautiful heirloom jewelry in silver and gold.

She feels useful and fulfilled, responsible for the safety and well-being of the people in her life.

Back in Boston, Eustacia (my Pashley Princess) has recently reached a similar state of happiness - interestingly, after the addition of some of the same components, such as the rear folding baskets and the speedy cream tires. It seems that bicycle happiness is indeed, at least to some extent, formulaic. When all the factors come together just right, it works. When something is off, it doesn't.

This brings the question of whether happy bicycles inspire being written about. When everything feels just right, there is nothing to say really. The sun is shining, my bicycle is running smoothly, my folding basket fits my briefcase snugly, my shoes don't slip on the pedals, the route to work is safe and beautiful, and it took me less time to arrive at my office than had I taken the subway. That pretty much describes my commute this morning, and it sounds rather uninteresting.

As I said to Anna from Cycling is Good for You the other evening - If I lived in Vienna and had Jacqueline to begin with, I doubt that I would have ever started a cycling blog despite loving bicycles. Maybe an image gallery, but not a blog. There would have been nothing to discuss.

After all, most posts are written about challenges, questions, restorations, the search for new components or better routes, and so on. But is bicycle happiness newsworthy?

Bikes You Can't Ride

Last night, Anna (from Cycling Is Good for You) and I went to a party thrown by a local law firm. As a form of entertainment, the party offered its guests a number of exotic bicycles to try, courtesy of our friend and fabled bicycle collector Wolfgang.

Among the more notable was this super-long chopper.

Don't be deceived by the fact that Anna is actually pedaling it in the pictures - these things are incredibly difficult to ride. The freakishly long fork throws the steering completely out of wack requiring extraordinary balancing skills and trust in the universe to control it.

And here is Wolfgang riding a Swing Bike. If it looks like the bicycle is folding in half whilst in motion, that's because it is.

The seat tube is split in such a way, that it pivots and allows independent steering for the front and rear wheel, to the point that the wheels can be almost parallel to one another.

When I first learned about modified bicycles, I assumed the point behind them was eccentricity and creativity. I never realised that often such bikes are intentionally designed to be difficult to ride. By altering the bicycle in a way that disturbs balance, the cyclist is challenged to compensate by improving their own balancing and steering skills. Though I prefer my bicycles ridable, I appreciate the skill it takes to handle these - especially after having tried (and failed) to ride them myself!